


Strangers in the Bright Lights

by poodles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Reunion, alternative title: every character is drunk the entire duration of this fic, post-hawkmoth, theres some drama but the ending is lighthearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poodles/pseuds/poodles
Summary: Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?





	Strangers in the Bright Lights

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. Well... he guesses it could be a batman mask, or something, but her scoop neck shirt is red with ladybug polka dots. It’s gotta be a Chat Noir mask, with Chat Noir ears, perched on black hair that she’s swept neatly into a bun. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her. She’s not talking to anyone, just watching the staff move tables aside. It’s nearly 11, people are starting to dance. Well, no time like the present- Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

It’s been a while since he’s tried to meet someone in a bar, but he doubts he’ll be too rusty. One thing about having a pretty face is that you can get away with clumsy conversation. He’ll see if she recognizes him, first, it happens every so often and always makes people want to talk to him. Maybe it’s more likely that she'll have seen his face before, since they’re in Paris- Paris hasn’t forgotten him yet, has it? It’s only been two years, and some of his ad campaigns make it back here, even if he doesn't.

She doesn’t disappoint. He brushes against her arm and turns towards her, and her go wide with recognition as they fix on him, her mouth opening slightly with a silent “Oh”. Even better, her surprise slides into a coy smile, and she narrows her eyes to give him a good slow once-over before looking back at his face. He’s so in. He hasn’t even said anything, it was so easy. And she’s so pretty, now that he’s closer - she’s gorgeous! The mask fits her well, sitting tight to the bridge of her nose, blending into her dark hair and making her blue eyes pop. He’s always loved blue eyes. She’s the prettiest girl in here and she looks like she wants to eat him up. It’s a good feeling, it tickles his ego, and mixes well with the gin he’s been drinking.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she says.

“That’s amazing!” He says, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. “How did you know my name!” She laughs.

“I must be lucky.”

“I like your mask,” he says. “It's hard to get a good one. Where did you find it?”

“I made it,” she says, tracing the edge of it on her cheek. “Took me four tries to get it this good.”

“You made that?” Adrien says, and he leans it to look before he can think better of it. She backs away in surprise when he gets close to her face, but when he apologizes, she moves closer again so he can look. It’s fabric, he can see the seams at the edges, but it’s stiff and modeled beautifully to her cheeks. It isn’t entirely matte, she might have treated it with something to give it a shine. He can't tell much more in the dim lighting of the bar. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks.”

He moves back again. “So, are you Chat Noir, then?” Adrien asks. “The spots are a little off theme, aren’t they?”

She gives him a weird look. “I’m both,” she says. “Chat Noir AND Ladybug.” She flourishes towards her mask and down towards her spotted shirt.

“That’s a lot of superhero for one woman,” he says.

“I’m a lot of woman,” she says, without missing a beat. He wants to ask her more, but before he can she asks him to dance, and how can he say no?

They dance. She's a good dancer- she's not shy with her hands, but she's not rude with them either. It's hard to talk while the music is so loud, but she pulls his head down to get close to his ear and says she liked the Agreste 2018 spring line ad campaign. When he asks why, she shouts about the silhouettes. Eventually she excuses herself for the restroom - he thinks for a moment that he won’t see her again, but she’s just changed out of her heels into flats, and she finds him by the bar. He buys her a drink and they sit outside, where she asks him about the spring line again and he prompts her to repeat what she told him over the music, now that he can hear her better. She's enthusiastic, intelligent, and easy to listen to. They swap shallow stories and quips. He makes her laugh, which thrills him- "Oh, you're a joker, I see!" she says, like she's exasperated, although she's smiling. "Not just a pretty face, then!"

"That's right," Adrien says, leaning back in his chair and giving her a wink. "I also have very pretty hair." She rolls her eyes and laughs again.

"You're the complete package!" 

Her banter delights him- Maybe he missed speaking french more than he thought, or maybe he hasn’t had such a quick conversation partner since he left Paris. He can’t decide if he wants to be on the dance floor where he can touch her or outside where he can talk to her. She won’t tell him her name, which he bargained for at first, before giving it up. He supposes it’s probably safer not to give your name out to guys you meet in bars. Besides, who knows if he’ll see her after tonight? She hasn’t offered any contact information, and he hasn’t offered any of his.

She says, “You could call me Chat Noir.” Adrien suggests “Ladybug,” so he doesn’t have to call her Chat Noir all night. Besides, she looks more like Ladybug, despite her black mask. Her lips are just the right shape, and her eyes are the right blue. She wrinkles her nose at his suggestion and says, “How about Kitty?” He agrees, because he doesn’t have a better idea.

They talk until it gets cold, and then they walk. Kitty tucks her hand in his coat pocket. 

Some time later, as they sit on the steps leading up to a stone church, a crash interrupts the night. 

There aren’t akumas anymore, they ended when hawkmoth died, but other evils have risen to take his place, as evils will do. Adrien is distracted for a moment, struck by the thought that he should - should what, transform? He didn’t even wear his ring out tonight. WHY didn't he wear his ring? He knew he was back in Paris, he knew there were still attacks. He can’t say he didn’t think of it. But… he hasn’t worn the ring in two years. He barely speaks to Plagg. And he hasn't spoken to Ladybug since his father died. He never even told Ladybug why he left. He’s not- he’s not ready, this isn’t fair… an attack tonight? The second day he’s back? An attack now? 

Kitty pulls him out of his moment by groaning and slumping against him exaggeratedly. “UGH,” she says. “FIGURES. An attack on Paris, on such a nice night! Well you can’t just have good things, can you now, gorgeous?” She’s been calling him that on and off. He likes it. He likes the nicknames, it feels comfortable, and he doesn’t care to figure out why.

“Aren’t you going to go fight it, Miss Ladybug?” he says, teasing her instead of thinking. He presses his fingers to the spots on her shoulder to point out her ladybug-themed outfit.

“Ladybug AND Chat Noir,” she says, dramatically, bowing her head and gesturing to her ears. “And I suppose I am!” She grabs her bag and stands up, and he laughs. She begins to walk off, looking at him like she wants to see if he’ll follow. He waits for her, and she keeps walking, and waves. He waves back, but his mind is wandering. He looks at the skyline, where dust has been kicking up. It’s close by. The conversation has been reminding him that Ladybug… the REAL Ladybug…. would probably show up. It sends a shiver of something through him. When he looks back, Kitty is gone. His stomach drops a little - he didn’t think she’d really go. Was she just looking for a reason to leave? He’d really…. she’d been…. god, was he supposed to just go home now? Alone with his thoughts? Nobody to tell him hes gorgeous? Just Ladybug, fighting without him, his ring is back home in a box… of course, Ladybug's been doing it for years. She can do it now. But…

He watches Ladybug fight from the steps of the church. She’s a little more slapdash than he remembers, but man can she move. She’s adjusted to fighting without him. He can tell. She compensates for all the ways he used to balance her. He can see moments in the fight where he would have done something- when he would have boosted her, thrown her a rope, and once, when he would have knocked her out of the way. He almost gets up, but doesn’t know what he’d do if he stood. She doesn’t look like she’s waiting for help.

When the fight is over, Kitty comes back. Adrien is watching where Ladybug left, lost in thought, and Kitty takes him by surprise. He didn’t think she’d come back- like she was really off saving Paris. A weird extension of her Ladybug-and-Chat-Noir guise. A joke? Hah, well, you never know, maybe she really was Ladybug. Was she wearing earrings? Adrien catches himself looking for them with some exasperation. Just because she looks like Ladybug and has little round earrings and disappears at the right times doesn’t mean she’s ACTUALLY Ladybug. There’s only so far fantasy can take you before it bumps up against reality.

Kitty looks apologetic, though, as she walks back, and a little shy. He’s a little drunk, he realizes. “How was the fight, Ladybug?” He asks, and he says it in jest, to continue their joke. She smiles, some of her tension gone, and she bows and flourishes to her ears. “Ladybug AND Chat Noir!” Her eyes sparkle when she pops her head back up, and they’re so blue.

 

At two in the morning they are kissing on the street, Kitty in Adrien’s lap in the outdoor seating of a late night cafe, their half-gone drinks forgotten on the table. It’s summer, but the night has gotten cold and the metal of the chair digs into Adrien's thighs. Still, he wouldn’t dream of moving. She kisses him like she’s savoring him. He wants to savor her. He wants to be close to her, she seems more like a dream, like a gift, like a stroke of luck, than she seems real. He’s started thinking she might as well be Ladybug. She seems almost as precious in this hazy, gin-tinted night. Why can’t she be Ladybug? Why not? Why can’t Ladybug be kissing him like this right now? Touching her feels like anchoring her down so she won’t disappear.

Kitty leans back and Adrien looks at her, content- the street lights catch her frizzing hair in a halo as it tucks out of its neat bun and flies around her face, the dancing and the whiskey and the night undoing her. She’s gazing at him, her lips swollen into a pout, her eyes lidded and bright behind the mask and still somehow so blue. Ladybug blue. He indulges himself and imagines for a moment that she really is Ladybug, that she found him, it’s Ladybug sitting in his lap, with his hands flat on her hips, her weight on his thighs. She’s so warm, and through the drink, it feels like a metaphor.

“I don’t want to have sex,” she says bluntly, and she stares him down. He says, “Okay.“ And he wonders if she means she doesn’t want to spend more time with him. He hopes not. She speaks again: “Am I disappointing you?” He says no, and she says, “okay.” She kisses him again, lighter. He matches her, and they kiss slower, until they are standing still.

“Do you want to come back with me for coffee?” he asks, his lips touching hers as he speaks. She answers after a beat. “Coffee?” She’s speaking into his mouth. He can hear her question. He says, “yeah. Coffee and no sex.” He moves his mouth away, conscious that if he leaves it there she might doubt his sincerity. But he keeps his hands on her hips, just because he doesn’t want to let go. If she doesn’t believe him, well, he probably couldn’t rip his hands off her if he tried. She’s so warm.

She goes back with him for coffee. He calls a car and takes her to the Agreste mansion. It’s been empty for a while, and half the rooms have sheets over the furniture. He takes her to the kitchen, where he installed a small kitchen table yesterday. He doesn’t want to eat in the dining room. Kitty doesn't say anything as she takes it in. He makes coffee, they stay silent, the night catching up with them. Kitty asks to use his bathroom, he gives her directions and finishes the coffee, taking a little longer to do so than he might have if he was sober. He sets their coffee on the table and sinks down into one of the chairs, nearly too tired and a little too drunk to worry that she’s bored of him. She came home with him, didn’t she?

He notices she’s left her phone on the table when it rings. It’s Alya. Alya Cesaire, from school, and there’s no doubt, it’s her name and her photo that pops up. Alya Cesaire is calling Kitty. Adrien grabs the phone and answers before it can ring out, which maybe he shouldn’t have, but he does. “Hello?”

“Uh, Hello?” It’s Alya’s voice. A grin breaks onto his face despite himself, he’s been away from Paris so long! Alya’s voice is a welcome memory. “Alya!” He says. “It’s Adrien!” He laughs a bit, caught up in the absurdity of it.

“Adrien?” She says, “Adrien Agreste? ADRIEN?” she sounds absolutely flabbergasted, and probably not sober either, and he revels in it.

“Yes! The Adrien Agreste! The one, the only. Back in town. In theaters near you!”

“That’s.. whaaaaaat? I mean that’s great! Thats- you’re back? Okay. Oooookay, I have a LOT of questions. But here’s the most important one. Are you the reason Marinette isn’t home at three o clock?”

“Am I what?” Adrien laughs, wondering if he’s had a bit more to drink than he initially thought, because it’s taking him a minute to figure out what Alya’s talking about. But she did hear the word Marinette! He remembers Marinette. “How’s Marinette!” He asks.

“YOU tell ME,” Alya says, in that voice people use when they’re implying you’re flirting. Has he been flirting with Marinette? He takes a drunk minute to catalogue what he’s been doing since he got back to Paris. Shopping. Moving furniture. Photo albums. Nope. Definitely no Marinette.

“Are we having the same conversation?” Adrien says, and remembers just then whose phone Alya has called. “Hey, you know- my friend!” He stumbles a bit as he realizes he doesn’t know Kitty’s name, and feels silly calling her Kitty over the phone.

“I know your friend?”

“Yeah!”

“Do you mean Marinette?”

Adrien assures her that he knows she knows Marinette, and corrects her by saying he met a girl while he was out tonight and Alya clearly knows her because she just called her phone.

Alya says, “I called Marinette’s phone.”

Adrien takes a minute to process that. Out loud, into the phone. He says, “But you called THIS phone.”

“I called MARINETTE’S phone,” Alya says. “Did Marinette not HAVE it?”

“Oh,” Adrien says, and things come quickly into focus. He feels hot with embarrassment, not entirely sure why. “Yes, uh- I guess she did. She was… wearing a mask,” He adds, a little foolishly “I didn’t- I mean-” Alya interrupts him and he gratefully relinquishes the floor.

“She was wearing a MASK?”

“Does she not… do that?” Adrien asks, still feeling a little stupid. For the first time in the night, it starts to seem really strange that he spent the whole night with a girl in a mask. MARINETTE in a mask. It just hadn’t bothered him… But it WAS strange. He never even asked her to take it off.

“Not that i was AWARE of!” Alya is saying, but Adrien isn’t paying attention anymore- Marinette has come back from the bathroom. It’s Marinette. Jesus Christ. It’s Marinette wearing a mask. A Chat Noir mask. That she wore out to dance. Was anyone with her? Marinette is….. wow. She sits down at the table, by the cup of coffee he’s set out for her. He’s holding her phone to his ear. she says, “Is that my phone?”

He hands it out to her and tries not to swallow, or let his voice crack. “It’s, uh. It’s Alya.”

she doesn’t take the phone right away. she just looks at him, her eyes wide. He does swallow, and he feels hot again. “She wants to talk to you”

“Okay,” Marinette says, taking the phone. She brings it to her ear, still watching him, and talks to Alya. It makes her irritable, she grumbles and gives excuses. It sounded like Alya was as curious as ever and Marinette didn’t want to be in the spotlight. She eventually hangs up, with a strong gesture. She puts the phone down with a sigh and looks at Adrien, right in the eyes, arms crossed, like a challenge. “So?” she says.

“Sorry I picked up your phone,” he says. she keeps looking at him like that. “I… wanted to say hi to Alya.” It sounds really stupid and he wishes he hadn’t said it. But Marinette uncrosses her arms and picks up her cup, glaring at the coffee instead of Adrien. Then she changes her mind, puts down her coffee, and takes off her mask. It’s attached by an elastic string around her hair, and that’s all. She sets it on the table in front of them, bows her head and rubs her eyes, smearing some of her mascara. Then she takes her coffee back in her hands. It's Marinette.

“Hi,” she says, looking at the coffee.

“Hi,” Adrien echoes, taking his own coffee. She takes a sip, and before he can stop himself, he asks, “Why were you wearing a mask?”

Marinette rolls her eyes, and Adrien asks again, and she says, “I don’t know! Can’t a girl just wear a mask?” She glances at Adrien. “Can’t I just be a little anonymous for a night?” Her voice is tired and she gives him a pleading look, but he wants to know too bad to stop asking.

“Come on, Marinette, why do you go around dressed up like Chat Noir?” Marinette looks annoyed, pushing her coffee back to the table. He starts to ask again, but Marinette starts first.

“Well SOMEONE has to be Chat Noir!” She says suddenly. And she says it ferociously, crossing her arms in a rough movement, letting out energy that seems pent up in her. Her whole attitude changes, surprising Adrien. It plucks a little string of guilt in him, but before he can follow that tune, Marinette uncrosses her arms restlessly and says, almost unable to help herself, “you know if someone is going to just DISAPPEAR then someone ELSE is going to have to do their work! That’s just how it is I guess!” She bites her tongue, and drums her fingers on the table, before bursting out with, “Who just LEAVES??”

Adrien opens his mouth, half-decided to admit that he did, but Marinette isn’t finished. “It’s not like I didn’t NEED him!” she shouts, and Adrien stares as she says, “HOW could he just… Oh, I sounds crazy,” she moans. “This is just gibberish- But he! oh! oh… I’m sorry, Adrien.” She looks down into her coffee, and breathes deeply, settling herself. Adrien watches her, sorting through her outburst. he’s uncomfortably aware of his fantasies from earlier in the night… that she could be Ladybug. But she’s not Ladybug, she’s Marinette. He already solved the mystery girl, there doesn’t have to be another layer. But he can’t stop thinking that there COULD be. She’s basically already told him… she’s not just Chat Noir. She’s Chat Noir AND Ladybug. She has to be Ladybug. Oh my god… she really could be Ladybug. Adrien is gripped with the thought, it feels more real now then it did when she kissed him. He feels like he’s walking on a tightrope between two realities, where Marinette is and is not Ladybug. Is he imagining things? Does he want her to be Ladybug too much?

“Can I sound a little crazy too?” He says, and she nods into her coffee, where she has busied herself. “Are you Ladybug?” he says, as fast as he can. She swallows her coffee fast and coughs. She IS Ladybug, something in him hisses. Ladybug would TOTALLY drink her coffee too fast.

She says, “No, I’m not Ladybug!”

He doesn’t say anything to that. he can’t decide if he believes her. She seems to draw into herself, and worries her finger along the lip of her coffee cup. “Why would you even ask that,” she groans. “That’s such a stupid question.”

“I said it was crazy,” he says

“It WAS crazy,” she grumbles, not looking up from her cup. “What a stupid question,” she repeats. And then, “what if I WAS Ladybug? You can’t ask that! If I WAS Ladybug, would I just TELL you? Ladybug can’t just TELL people!”

She’s as good as Ladybug. She HAS to be Ladybug. Adrien gives a short laugh at the thought, a little bit giddy, and says, “If you were Ladybug, you would never tell me.”

Marinette finally looks at him again, but doesn’t say anything. Adrien studies her face- she doesn’t look as otherworldly under the dim lights in the kitchen, but she’s just as gorgeous. Her eyes are just as blue without the mask, her hair is still coming undone, messier for her mask having been pulled off. She looks tired. “That’s true,” she says. “Ladybug would never in a million years tell you she was Ladybug. So…”

So?

“So,” Marinette continues, slowly, not taking her eyes off him, “It follows, that I must NOT be Ladybug, if I… if I were to tell you that I AM Ladybug.”

She IS Ladybug.

Adrien can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

“You’re Ladybug.”

“I’m… NOT Ladybug.”

“You’re NOT Ladybug,” he repeats, but he really means, ‘you ARE Ladybug’.

She’s just sitting there. Ladybug. this feels huge. There’s a hint of uncertainty… she COULD be just Marinette. No, why would she say all of this if she wasn’t Ladybug? She looks like Ladybug. she has Ladybug’s dark hair. Ladybug’s perfect mouth. He knows Ladybug’s mouth so well, even after being away from her. It’s Marinette’s mouth. Oh my god, he watched Marinette fighting tonight. That was her out there. Marinette was the one who adjusted to fighting without him.

Adrien’s mood drops again, the elation of meeting Ladybug… being with LADYBUG… he had KISSED Ladybug, she had kissed him… the elation falls away and a low wave of dread creeps in. His fingers instinctively search out the empty place on his finger where he wore a ring for years. He knows where the ring is, nestled in silk, locked in an old box, hidden in his closet. Barely unpacked. He couldn’t bring himself to put it on today. He’s not ready. How could he have wanted this? No, of course he wanted this, he wanted to meet Ladybug, of course, just… now? He needed more time. He had wanted to find her later. She wasn’t happy with him… Why would she be? She didn’t know what had happened, he had just left, he hadn’t told her why.

Marinette has been holding his gaze. she looks uncomfortable, increasingly so as his expression stills. Finally, she breaks eye contact to look back at her coffee. She fidgets for a minute, and stands up. “I’ve had too much to drink,” She sighs, giving a half-hearted laugh, feigning normality, as if any of this could be normal. “I should really go home.”

Adrien stands up with her, abruptly. “Don’t go yet,” he says.

“I’m tired,” she says lightly, taking a long time to put her phone in her bag. “Alya wanted me to come home. We have plans tomorrow anyways.”

“Don’t go yet,” Adrien repeats, stalling, desperately trying to sort out what to do. He doesn’t know what to say to her, but she can’t LEAVE.

“WHAT, Adrien,” Marinette says, finally looking at him, irritation creeping into her voice. Her mascara is still smeared over her cheek, her bun finally slipping down the back of her head. She reaches behind her head to pull it out entirely in one frustrated jerk of her hand, letting her hair settle over her shoulders. It’s a mess. He can’t let her leave like this. Okay. That’s it. He can’t leave it like this. with some new resolve, he steps a little closer. She tenses, and he stops an arms length away, and goes for the cat ears still perched on her head. She lets him. The headband pulls at her hair when he slides it up and off.

“You’re not Ladybug, that’s fine,” he says. “That works out really good, because I’m not Chat Noir.” He puts the ears on his own head. They’re too small, they pinch. “What do you think of this entirely new look for me, that I've never rocked before?”

He wants her to laugh, but she doesn’t. He says, “Is it… the cat’s meow?” she just looks more annoyed now.

“Give me my ears back,” she says.

“I’ll keep them,” Adrien says “Then you won’t have to be Chat Noir anymore.”

“Adrien,” Marinette starts, with some kind of disapproval in her voice, but he interrupts her.

“I meant it,” he says, trying to put some gravity into the sentiment. “If you’re not Ladybug, I’m not Chat Noir.” She’s looking at him like he sprouted a second head. “Schroedinger’s Chat,” he says, mostly because he’s nervous. He’s so nervous. He wants to play this cool so badly. He’s second-guessing himself now, he shouldn’t have said anything, he basically TOLD her he’s Chat Noir, he’s not ready, what if she hates him! He keeps talking. “Schroedinger’s Chat,” he repeats, “My being Chat Noir is dependent on you being Ladybug. Since you may or may not be Ladybug, I may or may not be Chat.”

“I’m not Ladybug,” She says

“Yes, that’s what Ladybug would say,” Adrien says lightly, and Marinette actually stamps her foot on the floor in frustration.

“You’re not Chat Noir!” she says.

“That’s true, as long as you’re not Ladybug. So I guess you’ll never really know!” Adrien says.

“Adrien,” Marinette says slowly, like she’s speaking to a child, “I know whether or not I’m Ladybug. You’re the only one who’s having trouble with it.”

“Well-” Adrien’s voice catches, and he stops to clear his throat, his neck getting hot. He’s not keeping it cool. This is going so badly. “If you know whether or not you’re Ladybug,” he says, “Then you.. uh… you already know whether or not I’m Chat Noir.”

Marinette is giving him the most scrutinizing look. She’s still frustrated, but her attitude has changed. He can see Ladybug peeking through it, the way Ladybug would look at an akuma that was driving her up the wall. She knew there was an answer and she was going to find it. He was an offensive puzzle she had to solve. He hoped she did because he didn’t think he had the courage to be any more blatant than he had been just now.

“You’re not really Chat Noir,” she repeats, like she’s daring him to disagree. She sounds surprisingly nervous.

“Not anymore,” he admits, heart in his throat. He wants to take off the ears, they’re too tight around his head, and he feels stupid wearing them now anyways. But it would feel too poignant to take them off now. He leaves them there.

Marinette is just staring at him again. He wishes she would say something. He could swear he had been drunk a moment ago, but now he feels unfortunately sober. He feels like a mistake. “Do you want a drink?” He says, and he turns away from her to find out what’s in the kitchen. It turns out there’s not a lot, nobody’s used it in a year and all he’s got is a bottle of wine he picked up yesterday. It’s not what he wants, but he needs something for his hands and his heart.

Marinette comes over to stand by him while he searches the drawers for a corkscrew. He finds one, opens the bottle, rinses out a couple wine glasses that had been hanging upside down in a rack, and pours the wine. He hands one of the glasses to her, and she drinks half of it quickly. He follows suit.

“How long have you been in town?” Marinette asks, breaking the silence.

“Two days,” Adrien says. “I haven’t finished unpacking.”

“You…” she hesitates, dropping off.

“I was gone for two years,” Adrien suggests, filling in her silence. She’s quiet for a minute, maybe digesting that. Adrien drinks the wine, barely tasting it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” She says, finally.

“I… did,” he says. He means Marinette. He told Marinette, Alya, and Nino. He didn’t tell Ladybug. Does that mean she believes him? That he’s Chat Noir?

She lets that slide. She’s looking at his hands now. He holds up his right hand so that she can see his bare fingers better. She says, “It’s…” She trails off, unsure if she wants to continue.

“I still have the ring,” he says. He hears her intake of breath as he admits it. The situation feels a little absurd, and for a moment, Adrien feels disconnected from it. Drinking wine in his kitchen with Ladybug, after all this time away… she ends up in his kitchen. And she knows he’s Chat Noir. She hasn’t said it, but she knows. AND, like that isn’t enough, she’s Marinette. “It’s upstairs. I took it off, after my dad died.”

Marinette’s eyes widen and flash to his from where they had been studying his fingers. He can almost see the pieces flying together in her mind. “Oh,” she says. “Oh! Oh, no… Adrien.”

He shrugs. There’s nothing he really wants to say about his father right now. “I didn’t want to tell you,” he says. “I wasn’t really dealing with it very well.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. She’s watching his face. He feels particularly naked as her eyes flick back and forth between his, and realizes it’s the first person since Nathalie who knows the part he played in his own father’s death. He hopes he can trust her now as much as he always has.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed… both of you,” she says quietly, and for a moment her eyes look bright, and he thinks she might cry. But she just takes a shuddering breath and says, somewhat incredulous, “And I just can’t believe you’re… here.”

That makes him laugh, because it sums up how he feels so perfectly, and he needs to break the tension. He can’t believe it either. She laughs with him, running a bewildered hand through her hair. A weight lifts off him, and they share the sheer absurdity of the situation. “You are, aren’t you?” She says, smiling. "You're here! You!" 

“I missed you so much!” He says, his own smile growing to match hers. “I missed you all the time! I must have thought about you every day. I can’t believe you’re in my kitchen. I can’t believe you’re… you!”

“I missed you too!” She says. “It’s not the same without you. Not at all. I kept waiting for you to just show up again! I looked EVERYWHERE for you! Sometimes I thought y- thought you’d DIED,” she admits, a little hysterically. “God, I’m glad you’re alive,” she adds, with feeling. She grabs his arm, like she’s anchoring herself to him.

Like she’s given him a green light, he grabs all of her, wrapping his arms around her back and tugging her tight to him. She wastes no time getting her arms up and around his neck, and burying her face in his shoulders. He leans back, pulling her off her feet and closer to him. In a fit of romanticism, he imagines slotting a missing piece back into himself. She missed him! He missed her SO much. He wants to spin her around. He wants to carry her to the moon. He wants to fly her to the Eiffel tower. He wants to be Chat Noir more than he’s wanted to be for two years.

“Tonight is giving me mood swings,” Marinette mumbles into his shirt, and he laughs.

“I think I’ve experienced every emotion there is in the last hour,” he says.

“I experienced classic emotions such as ‘Adrien is NOT Chat Noir’, and ‘Adrien IS Chat Noir’,” Marinette says with a giggle.

"I’ve had both of those!” Adrien says. “Classic emotions.”

“Classic,” she repeats, laughter still in her voice. Adrien gives her a squeeze as he sets her feet back on the ground, without letting her go, and she grunts a little. She’s perfect.

“I’m going to be Chat Noir again,” Adrien says.

“Thank GOD,” Marinette moans, giving him no time to doubt what he’s just promised. He’s definitely going to be Chat Noir again, if she wants him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t tonight,” he says, eager to apologize now that he knows she’ll forgive him. “I saw you fighting.”

“You didn’t have your ring,” she says, like she’s already justified it to herself.

“I was going to wear it tonight,” he admits, “I chickened out.”

“Scaredy cat,” she laughs, shaking against him.

“I was!” he says, answering her laugh. “I was scared you’d be mad at me.”

“I AM mad at you!” she says, “You ditched me!”

“But I’m reeeeeeaaallly sorry,” Adrien says, swaying her in his arms as he drags out the words. “And I’ll neeeeeeeevvvvver do it again!”

“You better not,” she says, patting the back of his neck.

“Hey! I just thought of something!” Adrien says, pulling her back off of him so he can look at her.

“What?” She says, and he’s endeared by her annoyance. He almost tucks her back under his chin, except he wants to say:

“You kissed me!”

“What?” she repeats, but a little more surprised.

“You kiiisssed me,” he sings, thrilled that it’s true. “You think I’m gorgeous!”

Marinette laughs and drags her hands out from behind him to cover her face. “We kissed,” she says. “Oh my god. We did kiss. I kissed Chat Noir.”

“We danced all night! And you knew it was me!” Adrien says, his smile spreading. “Well, you knew I was Adrien- you knew me! You wanted to kiss me! Why, Marinette, you swept me off my feet!” He can see her smile through her fingers. He tries the name out, “Ladybug, I never knew you felt that way!”

“You ARE Chat Noir, aren’t you,” she laughs, or groans. “You know what? Sure! Adrien, you know most of my secrets by now, you want to know one more?”

“Definitely,” Adrien says.

“When we were in school…” She peeks through her fingers, giving him a silly and devilish grin. “I had the… BIGGEST… crush on you!” she wiggles her eyebrows, and he laughs, she’s perfect.

“Did you?” He says with a theatrical gasp, hoping she’ll go on. He can’t kill his smile.

“I did! And when you found me at the bar tonight I thought why not! Sometimes you have to get things for yourself because you know you would have died to get it five years ago.” Marinette takes her hands away from her face and WINKS at him. WINKS.

“You picked me up!” He says, because he loves it.

“You didn’t make it very hard,” she says.

“I didn’t stand a chance,” he sighs. She’s looking at him fondly. He wonders if she’d kiss him again, but doesn’t feel up to trying tonight. It’s been a long one. Besides, he feels pretty good about his chances, and he’s not planning on going anywhere. Maybe she’ll kiss him tomorrow.

“Do you really have to go home tonight?” He asks. 

“Not really,” she says.

“Good,” he says. “Because I want to have you around first thing in the morning, or I’ll think this was a dream.”

“Oh, hold on,” Marinette says, distracted, and she does a quick jaunt to the kitchen table to pick up the Chat Noir mask she wore all night. The Chat Noir mask she made herself, oh, obviously, if Marinette sewed it, no wonder it was so good. She brings it back and presents it to him. “Put it on,” she says, “I want to see!”

“What, did you miss me?” He says, grinning, because he wants her to say it again.

“I haven’t seen your dumb face around for two years! Come on, Kitty, put on the mask.” He takes it, but stops for a moment to consider.

“I could put this on,” he says, and hesitates. She gestures to keep him talking. “Well,” He says, a little embarrassed, although he doesn’t know why. “I could put the real thing on, too. I mean, I have the ring, upstairs. It’s been a while, Plagg- my kwami- might not be very happy with me either, I said I would check in with him a couple months ago and I maybe didn’t, but… but it’s not like I’ve forgotten how…” He slows, aware that he’s rambling, but Marinette takes the conversation back and he gratefully relinquishes it.

“Do you want to?” She asks, and she sounds eager. It’s encouraging.

“I miss it,” he says, and he’s surprised that it really is true. He missed being her partner.

“Let’s get it, then!” She says, and she’s got a very Ladybug gleam in her eye. “What time is it? What are you doing tomorrow? Do we need to sleep at all tonight?”

“What else did you have in mind?” He asks, hoping he knows what she’s going to say.

“Let’s bring the rest of the wine somewhere more scenic,” she says. “Eiffel Tower…?”

“Eiffel Tower,” Adrien confirms, and she beams at him. He takes her hand and brings her upstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh fuck i forgot about tikki
> 
> She's asleep! She's tired. Marinette didn't have anything for her to eat post-transformation so she took a nap, and she missed all the drama and is so bummed out about it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
